


flew like a moth to you

by salthien



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: M/M, friends to divorcees to lovers, post-kh3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 02:02:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18907243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salthien/pseuds/salthien
Summary: Lea has always been magnetic. Isa doesn’t know how he could’ve ever managed to forget.





	flew like a moth to you

The day Isa returns to Radiant Garden - the first time in years as _Isa_ , not Saïx - is a long one. The hours themselves are filled to bursting with the process that is reacquainting himself with the town and the castle therein. Because it _is_ a process - witnessing all that’s changed, discovering all that hasn’t, and familiarizing himself with the idea that _emotion_ is inextricably tied to _memory_. And Radiant Garden is suffused with the latter, every street corner and shopfront a quiet re-introduction to a place he had once considered home.

And through it all, Axel remains in-step beside him. Isa is in no position to ask - _Axel, not Lea?_ \- but he isn’t correcting them even as he addresses Ienzo properly, comments on Aeleus and Dilan having ‘ _not changed a fucking bit, those two’_ so Isa just assumes - he’s simply Axel now. He’d made far more permanent impressions as Axel, good or otherwise.

By the end of it Isa is exhausted and sore and heartsick; the latter he keeps close to his chest, his front of apathy so natural now that the ache is no trouble at all to disguise. The old, unused rooms in the apprentices’ quarters make for suitably temporary housing until the dust settles. Thinking too hard about what comes _later_ threatens to bring on a headache on its own.

They had, ostensibly, picked separate rooms, but Axel had almost immediately forfeit his in favor of following Isa, quick with an excuse to the tune of _‘making sure you’re actually gonna sleep, you weirdo’_. Isa can’t fault him for his assumption that he _wouldn’t_ , because it’s not entirely untrue. Sleep as a complete being, Isa has found, is alarmingly hard to find.

And so they sit, side by side with a foot and a half of Isa-imposed polite distance between them. A long, quiet conversation about next to nothing has long since faded into silence. The tension that had been manageable in public now weighs incredibly heavy - not between them, but _from_ them. Ten years of poor communication manifests itself in a third presence that takes up its own space within the bedroom, almost palpable.

Isa is the one that dares to break the silence first, reaching for the man who sits beside him. It’s uncharacteristic, acting first - he’s not sure what he plans to say but there must be _something_ , a way to ease the deep knot of guilt that has settled itself in his stomach from the moment his second (third?) life had begun.

“Axel-”

“No-” Axel cuts him off abruptly in sudden, vehement protest. His hand darts up to catch Isa’s wrist; the motion and intensity of feeling combined look like they’ve surprised himself as much as they have Isa. He tries gently to pull back, but Axel doesn’t let go, either.

“Please.” Softer. “Lea. Just - call me Lea. I’m Axel to them, but you... I want to be Lea for you.” _Lea, who never left you behind_ \- Isa can hear the unspoken implication in his tone as he finally looses his grip on Isa’s hand _._ Lea, because then in the comfort of this room, alone, _together,_ they can finally be Isa-and-Lea again. A decade of clawing toward some distant fantasy of rescue, rubbing stone hearts raw in an attempt to relieve the hollow ache their real ones had left behind, can rest outside the walls of this room with Saïx and Axel.

“Lea.”

Isa’s hand resumes its journey through the space between them, settling a thumb at his cheek; Isa cannot give him the same relief that the self-assuring teardrop marks had once offered but he can try, can brush the few gathered tears from beneath green eyes. Axel - _Lea, Lea, Lea_ Isa repeats, in the hopes that it’s enough to break a decade of forced habit - swallows once and manages a watery smile. Isa wonders at just how much guilt Lea carries. Wonders, too, how best he can cast it from the man’s heart, convince Lea he’s paid whatever penance he’s convinced himself he deserves. Isa already carries more than enough of it for the both of them.

Lea shifting, drawing one knee to his chest, draws Isa’s attention to how closely they’re seated. Lea’s weight is slight at the bedside beside him, a stark contrast to the inexorable _pull_ of him as a person, as a force of will. Lea has always been magnetic. Isa doesn’t know how he could’ve ever managed to forget.

And thus it feels right to lean in, like it’s the most natural thing in the world when Isa closes the distance between them. He catches Lea by surprise: knows this by the small ‘o’ Lea’s mouth makes against his, the sharp intake of breath that accompanies it. Time does not slow to a halt, does not allow Isa to properly savor the kiss. He’s learned better than to expect that by now, but he’s sure he won’t forget this all the same.

A number of moments, one after another in rapid succession:

Isa tries to pull back. (What is he expecting, to rattle off some stuttered, apologetic explanation? Hope he hasn’t ruined the nebulous _something_ that had drifted between them for as long as he can remember?)

Lea _lurches_ into him, teeth knocking against Isa’s in a way that makes his skin crawl uncomfortably.

Isa makes a sound, low in his throat and involuntary, giving voice to that minute discomfort. He prays Lea won’t read it as a protest.

Lea pulls back - “Sorry. Sorry, I-” - and when words seem to fail Lea is on him again, lips warm and soft. There are no teeth this time.

Isa’s arm, posted behind him, lifts instead to settle awkwardly against the jut of Lea’s shoulderblade like he doesn’t know where to put it.

Lea’s hands fist in the front of Isa’s jacket, like _he_ doesn’t know where else to put _them_.

Isa decides _maybe teeth aren’t that bad, actually_ , as Lea catches his lower lip between them, unpracticed but making up for the difference with enthusiasm.

Lea’s bony elbow catches Isa’s shoulder as he attempts to weave a hand into his hair and though he has nothing at all to measure it against, Isa thinks he can taste joy.

Isa forgets anything and everything he’d hoped to say, because this is better than he could’ve ever hoped for.

An unspecified amount of time passes; Isa is hardly in a position to measure it. Lea migrates slowly, knee bumping its way blindly along Isa’s thigh so he can settle himself half-perched atop Isa’s lap. His legs are too long to fit comfortably between them, and there is no grace in the hesitant way Isa’s hands follow the angles of Lea’s torso. They break apart only when Isa’s chest begins to ache and he realizes it’s not thanks to raw _feeling_ , but the fact he hasn’t taken a proper breath in minutes.

The momentary distance between them is _just enough_ for guilt to settle back in at the periphery - is this sort of tender forgiveness what he deserves? Is being _happy_ something he should have the privilege of experiencing? - but then Lea’s forehead comes to rest against his own, not enough to silence the thoughts entirely, but at least able to drown them out with something far more immediate.

Lea _laughs_.

“God, you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

Oh.

“Hey. Isa. Don’t leave me hanging, here.” Lea drums his fingers along the column of Isa’s neck, and Isa flinches minutely away from the movement. “If you’re gonna get all introspective on me-”

“I’m not.” For once, Isa tells the absolute truth. Introspection has its appropriate time and place, and he decides near immediately that time and place is  _not_ when Lea is trailing fingers along his jaw, tenderly sweeping a lock of hair away from his face.

“Oh. ...The answer is _a really long fucking time_ , in case you were wondering.”

“Yes. You implied as much.”

“Well alright, mister high-and-mighty, _above-all-earthly-pleasures, I’ve-never-thought-about-_ _kissing-my-best-friend-_ ”

Isa has to lean in and kiss him again to stop him. He’s not sure Lea minds much at all.

**Author's Note:**

> first time writing kh fic, i do take criticism but politely ask that it's constructive!
> 
> find me at my twitter scream hole [@salthien](http://twitter.com/salthien)


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